Draco Malfoy Is The Greatest
by Freak-Egg
Summary: Ron has detention and Malfoy's going to make it a bit more exciting


**Title**: Draco Malfoy Is The Greatest  
**Author:** Fr34k3gg  
**Rating**: M  
**Pairing**: Draco/Ron  
**Summary**: Ron has detention and Malfoy's going to make it a bit more exciting

**Warnings**: Some swearing, Mild sex.

* * *

It was winter. An abundance of snow fell from the grey sky as five teenagers huddled behind a large pine tree, using its bristles as a source of privacy. The two taller redheaded boys were holding a broomstick each.

"Now don't go parading these around," Fred Weasley instructed, as he handed a small wooden box to his brother, Ron.

"You'll get in a heap of trouble if anyone catches you with them," George added.

Ron rolled his eyes and tucked the small package under his arm, using his winter cloak to conceal it.

Hermione cut in, her hair twisting and becoming—if this was possible—even more frizzed in the cold wind. "I don't see why we need these, Ronald. Is it really worth all this trouble for some fireworks?"

"These aren't just _any _Fireworks, Hermione," Ron explained with great enthusiasm.

George smirked. "These are special Weasley's Wizard Wheeze fireworks."

"Won't find any fireworks even comparable to these," Fred said, an identical smirk to his twin's creeping upon his lips.

"Don't worry, Hermione," Harry spoke up now, "we aren't going to set them off in the school or anything."

Hermione furrowed her brow. "What if we get _caught_?"

"We won't if you stop hollering about it," Ron muttered.

The twins laughed as Ron earned himself yet another glare from Hermione. He was gathering quite the collection over the years.

"We should go before any teachers come out. Now, if anyone _does _catch you, make sure to tell them where you got those," Fred instructed, still grinning. "Free advertisement."

The twins then mounted their brooms and kicked off, leaving Hogwarts school grounds in a dash. They disappeared from sight in a matter of seconds.

Ron, Harry and Hermione turned and started towards the school. Ron made sure he held the wooden box firmly between his arm and torso.

"Where are you going to even set them off?" Hermione asked, still looking extremely disapproving.

"Shhhhh!" Ron hissed. There were three Ravenclaw first years sitting only a few steps away from where they were walking.

Hermione sniffed haughtily. "I'm going a different way then. I don't need to be with either of you two when you get caught." She took a sharp turn down an empty corridor, stomping her feet slightly as she marched away.

Ron rolled his eyes again. "She is such a downer, that one."

Harry frowned. "Well, she has a point. I mean, we don't _really_ need these, do we? It seems like more trouble than it's worth."

Ron couldn't believe it. His best friend, who usually backed him up, was failing him this time.

"Oh, come on, it's going to be great!" Ron said, trying to get Harry to go along with the idea.

Harry shrugged, a somewhat sympathetic look on his face. "Sorry, Ron... But it's not like you need me around for this, right?" And with that, Harry turned and departed down the same corridor Hermione had.

Ron scoffed. "Gits," he muttered to the empty hallway.

It took Ron not five minutes to finally need a reason to hide the box, as Professor Snape came billowing down the hall, looking very cross. His scowl fell upon Ron, who was standing alone in the middle of the passageway.

"Weasley!" he snapped, "What are you doing in the halls?"

Ron raised an eyebrow. "It's Saturday," he said as he realized Snape was _seriously_ asking this idiotic question.

Snape sneered. "Where are Potter and Granger, then?"

"I'm not sure."

Another sneer.

It took Snape a moment to come up with another question for the boy. "Why do you have your cloak on?"

"I was just outside," Ron explained, becoming slightly irritated at how desperate Snape appeared to be to have a reason for punishing him. Clearly, having a cloak on wasn't going to be a good enough reason.

The same thought must have occurred to Snape, because he glared and began to walk away. Ron quietly sighed and took a step.

Then, _the_ worst thing that could have happened at that moment, happened. The box slipped from the tight hold Ron had on it and clattered to the stone floor. Snape turned around and saw the box lying open, fireworks sprawled in every direction.

Then, Snape smiled. It was the kind of smile that always sent shivers down Ron's spine.

"Fireworks, Mr. Weasley?" Snape drawled.

Ron gulped. This was going to be bad on several different levels.

Snape drew his wand and flicked it towards the strewn explosives, each one floating up and slowly making its way to Snape, who was still smirking. Ron swore this was how the man got off.

"Three weeks' detention," Snape smiled, "and one hundred points from Gryffindor. Be glad I'm not taking this to Dumbledore."

The last firework made its way into the wooden box which snapped shut loudly. Snape grabbed it from midair and strode off, a lighter step in his walk.

Ron groaned and trod off to Gryffindor Tower. He hadn't even got to set _one_ off. He would never hear the end of it from Fred and George.

Later that night, Ron made his way to Snape's office for detention. He'd just spent the last hour getting a extensive lecture from Hermione, and pity looks from Harry. Needless to say, he wasn't in the best of moods.

He made his destination and knocked on the door. A few seconds later, the door was flung open.

Snape grinned at the sight of a very irksome-looking Ron. "You're late," he said, then stood aside to let him in.

As Ron stepped in, he saw the only thing that could worsen his mood. Draco Malfoy was leaning against Snape's desk, his arms crossed and his trademark smirk plastered on his face.

"I have things to attend to tonight, so I asked Mr. Malfoy if he would assist in my detention duties. He'll be watching you for the next three hours, making sure you do what you're supposed to," Snape said with a tone of arrogance. "Malfoy, I trust you won't abuse your authority... But I suppose if you do, I wouldn't know."

Ron used every ounce of self control he had in order to not scream every curse he knew at them both, which, mind you, was a very long list of words.

Ron sat in the desk that was set up for him and heard the door slam shut behind Snape.

Satisfied that Snape was now out of earshot behind the closed door, Malfoy strolled over to Ron's desk. Ron glared up at him heatedly.

"Now, now, Weasley. You wouldn't want me telling Professor Snape that you were giving me dirty looks, now would you?"

Ron ignored this question. "What am I supposed to do?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Malfoy pointed to a stack of parchment on Snape's desk. "He wants you to write lines."

"How many?"

"As many as it takes you to write in three hours," Malfoy laughed, then made his way over to Snape's desk. Still smirking at Ron, he plopped down in Snape's chair and put his feet up on the desktop as he leaned back.

Ron rose from his seat and stepped over to grab the parchment, feeling a little awkward as Malfoy continued to watch him. He lifted the stack and brought it back to his spot, then took out a quill.

"What am I supposed to write?" he asked, still using the rudest tone he could muster.

"Oh, I don't know. How about 'Granger is a Mudblood?' Or, no! Write 'I am a poor piece of crap'...No, no... I know! Write 'Draco Malfoy is the greatest'."

Ron glared. "I'm pretty positive that Snape doesn't want me to write that--"

"He told me to make you write whatever _I_ want you to write." Malfoy smiled. "And I want you to write 'Draco Malfoy is the greatest.' So get to work."

Ron kept his glare in place for a moment longer before deciding it was a lost cause. He put his quill to the parchment and scribbled, 'Draco Malfoy is the greatest' numerous times.

About a half an hour of silence, aside from the scratch of his quill, went by. Ron kept glancing at Malfoy, who hadn't broken his smirking gaze for more than a few minutes at a time. Ron suspected that Malfoy just did it to make him feel uneasy, since that was precisely what it was doing.

"This is boring," Malfoy sighed a few minutes later, then stood up out of Snape's chair.

Ron scoffed. "Make yourself useful and write some of these lines," he muttered. He assumed it wouldn't be loud enough for Malfoy to hear, but was proven dreadfully wrong as Malfoy placed himself in front of Ron's desk, casting a shadow over the parchment.

He stopped scratching frantically with his quill and looked up at the blond.

Malfoy placed a hand on the corner of the desk and leaned on it.

"I have an idea that's a lot more exciting," he said plainly.

"Oh? And what the bloody hell could that be? You seem to forget that I'm here for detention, and I hate you. There's nothing I could possibly want to do with yo--"

"We could have sex," Malfoy cut him off.

Ron's eyes widened as he dropped his quill. Had he heard that right? Or was this some sort of spell that screwed up words in your head?

"Come again?" he spluttered.

"Exactly what I was hoping to do," Malfoy smirked.

Ron blinked.

Malfoy smiled. "Unless, that is, you're too afraid. A shame really, I thought Gryffindors were brave."

Ron gave him an incredulous stare. "That's not— But this is totally different and—S-sex? B-but I haven't even—I'm not gay!" he finally shouted.

Malfoy laughed. "This isn't about being gay, Weasley. It's about getting off. Nothing gay about getting off, is there? And I'm sure you have enough experience. How many times have you stuck it to the Mudblood?"

Ron was bewildered. He didn't have the presence of mind to reflect on or even be angry about the word 'Mudblood', or the fact that he'd never slept with Hermione.

"No!" he said after about five seconds of complete silence.

Malfoy grinned. "You say that _now..._" he said, now sitting on the cleared-off part of the desk. Ron waited for him to finish the sentence.

But then Malfoy was kissing him. He was kissing Ron, and Ron was too dumbfounded to fight it. He found himself giving in to the kiss, closing his eyes. It was the same as kissing a girl, only more forceful. He felt Malfoy shuffle, then felt his weight as the other boy straddled his lap. He found his strength and pulled away.

"Malfoy, what the bloody hell are you doing?! Get the fu--"

He was cut off as Malfoy kissed him again. The blond now broke away himself and started kissing down the redhead's jaw line and finally stopping on his neck.

Ron panted faintly. He shouldn't be enjoying this, but he _was_. He was enjoying every second of the prat's skillful kisses, and his pants were growing tighter. Malfoy must have felt this, as his hand was now trailing down Ron's front, and stopping on his zipper. He undid Ron's fly with one hand, which Ron thought must have taken some experience to do properly.

All of his thoughts were suddenly gone as the blond's hand slid down the front of his boxers and started exploring.

Ron moaned and Malfoy was back to pressing his lips against Ron's, in an effort to keep him silent.

He then groaned in reluctance to the blond's hand leaving his pants.

"This isn't all for you," Malfoy muttered, then started to undo his own slacks.

Ron was breathing heavily as he watched Malfoy, who seemed to know exactly what he was doing.

Malfoy tugged down his pants along with his boxers, exposing everything that society frowned upon. Ron bit his lip and looked away, feeling suddenly awkward.

Malfoy rolled his eyes and locked lips with Ron again, getting him excited once more as he made sure Ron was just as bare as he was. The redhead didn't protest.

Finally their bodies locked together and Ron gasped slightly. Malfoy smirked.

It went on like that for what seemed like forever. Ron feeling ashamed, yet wanting it all. Malfoy smirking the entire time.

When they were finally done, and Malfoy had had his fun, he pulled up his pants, zipped them, and sat back in Snape's chair, all while whistling.

Ron sat at his desk, staring at the now semi-smudged parchment in front of him, still completely puzzled by everything that had just happened.

Malfoy smirked once more. "Get back to work, Weasley."


End file.
